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Naturally I've been thinking a lot about the future lately. The strain of not knowing what's going to happen is really getting to me. The truth is that I really regret having burnt the further prophecies. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but, well, the novelty of not knowing the future has worn off, frankly, and, well, there's more than just me to consider. The prophecies are, after all, Agnes' legacy to her entire family.
The truth is, I had a change of heart - not long after the book went up in flames. Newt doesn't know it, and hopefully he never will, but the charred remains of the Further Prophecies are hidden in the attic. After all, as I reasoned at the time, Agnes' wouldn't have bothered writing them, since she'd know that they'd just be destroyed so there was no point, *unless she knew that I was going to rescue them* and that the important bits of prophecy would survive their immolation. At the end of the day, there's no second guessing destiny.
Since then, I haven't touched the remains. I made a promise to Newt, and I intend to stick by that. The problem is, sometimes I get to worrying about things, and I think "Why am I doing this? - the further prophecies are in the attic - all it would take would be a quick peak, and I could stop worrying." It's so tempting. Still, at least my daughter will have a choice, even if I manage to remain steadfast. I do hope it's not too badly damaged.
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